Flopping down onto the couch, Mariku was absolutely exhausted. A long drive with no breaks, no food, nothing, and all for what? All it did for him was make him grumpy, but he supposed he just needed some sleep. Auctions weren't held very often, and-well, they had a nice selection this time.
His prize sat in a chair across from him, staring down at its feet, not looking at him. He liked the thought of calling it an it. Because that's how he saw it, as less of a person, as his object, something for him, him alone.
Smiling, he supposed he could have a little fun. Yes, yes, he paid quite a bit for his prize. Even though he was exhuasted (a fucking 5 hour drive just to get there, then another 5 to get back was insane all in one day), why shouldn't he have a little fun?
"Come over here." And it didn't move. It stared at its feet, its head bobbing a little to the side, because they had fed it drugs before selling it to him. It wouldn't do very good if he'd brought it home kicking and screaming. With it like this, nobody would be the wiser. For all they knew, he was just giving a drunk friend a lift. For all they knew. They knew nothing.
Nobody knew Mariku had bought a slave. A slave for him to do whatever the fuck he wanted with it. It was his, all his. But when it didn't move, he grew angry at it. "I said come here." And still. Nothing.
It began shaking, like it was cold. Well, he supposed it was understandable. The clothes it was wearing were almost none. It was almost stripped bare, the only clothes it had were ripped, purposely, in certain places to show off certain body parts.
He licked his lips, just staring at its body. It was so young and beautiful, but what the fuck. Now a little more awake, he noticed something that made his temper flare.
At the auction, he must've been drunk or something, he didn't remember. His slave's body looked much fuller there. Its breasts looked bigger, its curves more fetching, but staring at it now, he realized it wasn't as curvy, nor as big-chested as he thought.
"Fuck. I finally get the money to fucking pay for you and you're scrawny as fuck. You might as well be a boy. Fucking waste of money."
The slave dipped its head, still not staring at him. And he was tired of it not listening to him. He stood from his spot on the couch, towering over it. And he smiled. "I'm your master now. That means you have to do whatever I say, whether you want to or not."
And it finally looked at him, its eyes huge, filled with terror. How old was this kid? It wasn't like it mattered, but staring at its face, it was definitely a lot younger than he. "P-p-please." Oh FUCKING great, a stutterer. Just what he needed. Fan-fucking-tastic.
"Just shut up." He was sick of trying to play nice with it. If it wasn't going to listen, he would just have to make it listen. "I said get up. Now."
"P-please. I-I-" His temper burst. Nothing annoyed him more than someone who couldn't fucking spit out what they wanted to say.
"Get the FUCK up." And he wasn't even yelling, but the slave must've noticed the malice in his voice. It stood right up, without a fight, swaying a little from the effects of whatever drug they gave it, and stared at him.
"That's better. Do what your master says and I won't hurt you. Okay?" Reaching out, he touched its face. It was so soft. How old was she-was it? It didn't matter, it didn't matter. He was just going to fuck it anyway, despite its small tits and lack of curves and value of less than a human being. No matter what it was, this is what he bought it for. It was for him and him alone.
With its eyes still staring into his, absolutely terrified, he moved back to its hair, and stroked it. S-so soft. Oh god. Moving on impulse, not even thinking, he wrapped his arms around it and pulled it to him, moaning at it. Because FUCK JUST THE FEELING, JUST THE FUCKING FEELING OF IT. IT WAS HIS ALL HIS! NOBODY ELSE'S! "F-fuck." And he was shaking. Fuck, no. His slave was shaking too, but not from pleasure like he was.
And it finally spoke. "M-master..." But it wasn't a question. Then, he could feel small hands touching his chest. No, no, he was getting hard already. No, if she did this, if it did this, fuck why was it doing this. "I'm sorry. I-I've never had to do this before."
It was a virgin? The smallest bits of excitement bubbled up and he didn't know why. Just the thought, fuck, it got him hard, so hard. But it was obeying, he supposed he could be a little nicer to it. "It's okay. As long as you do whatever I tell you, I won't have to punish you."
"P-please don't hurt me." It shook harder, and he felt something wet on his shoulder, where his slave's face was. "Please don't hurt me. I'll do whatever you want me to." Tears?
"I won't. I promise. All you have to do is obey, and you'll be fine. Just obey me."
He hugged it tighter, already hard in his pants, and it was hurting, he wanted her hands on him. He wanted her bad, and he hugged her tighter, not caring she was crying or shaking, or less of a person, or small-chested or not curvy, he just wanted her really bad.
"Yes, master."
End